


only the ocean

by aliaaaaaa



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 01:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6218689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliaaaaaa/pseuds/aliaaaaaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hated the vast ocean for robbing Webster away from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	only the ocean

It used to be Landsberg.

He would wake up with his face wet with sweats and tears. In the few seconds between the dream and the reality, a scream would tore out from his throat, his smooth arm throbbed – the echo of the white hot searing pain gripped him forcefully. _It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me. I am safe. I am **safe**_. It would take him several minutes to calm down – to breathe properly, to convince himself that he’s in his tiny apartment, in his tiny bed. Not back at the camp, not in Landsberg.

But even he couldn’t convince his demon to stop the dreams because he kept having them almost every night.

It used to be Landsberg – now he woke up gasping for air, feeling his lungs burning from being squeezed tightly by salt water and panic. It started after he received the news. A phone call late in the afternoon in September, he was preparing his dinner. _Joe._ He heard Christenson’s voice at the end of the line. _Web’s missing. He went out to the ocean. They found his wrecked boat. Joe, they didn’t find the body. I’m so sorry._

He hated the ocean now. Couldn’t bring himself to look at it which was difficult because he lived near the ocean. Whichever he looked, he would see the ocean at the corner of his eyes, mocking him, taunting him – _we took him away from you_.

He remembered the morning when Web went missing – he felt a tug low in his belly throughout the day. He felt restless. His heart hammering wildly without any reason. He chucked it to the lack of sleep. He chucked it to the fatigue setting in his bones.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know at the time he felt the pull in his belly that it was Webster trying to stay conscious, trying to stay alive – thinking about his family, thinking about his unfinished work, thinking about him perhaps.

He didn’t know the connection between him and Webster was about to be severed for good.

He didn’t know.

And some days, he felt that it was unfair for Webster to leave him. 

But.

But, truth be told, he was unfair to Webster too. He sent Joe letters, asking him to come down to Santa Monica.

_I bought a boat. She’s small and needs a lot of fixing. But she’s a beauty, Joe. You ought to come and meet her. I’ll take you fishing. I’ll teach you._

And he never replied to any of the letters. He didn’t know how to tell Web that his mind was still stuck in Landsberg – that some days he clawed at his arm, rubbing his smooth skin as if to make it cleaner. That he wanted to tell Web to wait for him just a bit longer before he could come down to Santa Monica.

But now, Web was no longer there and he hated the vast ocean for robbing Webster away from him. He couldn’t even look at the ocean without anger bubbling steadily underneath his skins.

It used to be Landsberg. Now more often than not, he would wake up crying, gasping out _Web_ and his arms frantically trying to hold on to something. _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry_ , he would gasp out – his fingers brushing the damp sheet, his lungs still burning.

*

Christenson called to check up on him. He whispered _I hate the ocean_ bitterly over the phone when Pat asked him how’s he doing.

_You can’t hate the ocean, because your Webster is in it. You can’t hate it because he’s part of it now_. Christenson replied calmly. _He would feel sad if he knew you hate the ocean._

And Joe didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything. Because Web loved the ocean and now he was one with it and Joe hated the ocean, but he didn’t want to hate Web.

That night when he went to bed, he dreamed of Web. Not drowning, but swimming. Web’s thick hair looked soft in the water, dancing to the current. He was smiling, all gleaming teeth showing. And his eyes were bluer than the ocean.

_Joe, you came!_

He heard Web’s voice and something in him caught and released simultaneously. In that moment, being in the ocean with Webster, only then he realised with clear intensity that he missed Web. He tried telling Web, but when he opened his mouth, only bubbles came out. _The ocean is a really scary place isn’t it_ , Web said but he was smiling softly, floating in front of him with ease like he was a fish. _I’m here for you, Joe_. Web took his arm gently, rubbing the smooth skins there and tugged him forward and he went to Web with an ease practice, holding on to him firmly. _You have nothing to be afraid of, Joe. I got you_.

*

It wasn’t easy to not feel bitter whenever he looked at the ocean. But he’s learning for Web’s sake because Web was part of it now. He still dreamed, but his dreams were mostly of Webster – memories from when they were in Europe – fighting the war together. Some nights, he still dreamed of Landsberg, but when he woke up, he didn’t claw his arm anymore. He could vividly remember the dream where Web’s fingers rubbed his arm soothingly – it wasn’t much but for him it felt real.

*

In December, he drove down to Santa Monica, stopping at the beach near Web’s now empty cottage. It looked different somehow from the ocean at his place. The water seemed to be soothingly blue like Web’s eyes, watching him coming closer. He walked slowly towards the water, one step, two steps – the sands warm under his feet, the wind blowing his way, gently running its fingers through his hair. He felt the cuffed of his jeans getting soaked and he trudged slowly against the current, immersing himself in it, venturing only knee-deep.

He stood in the bluish green ocean – the ocean was vast and the waves were high and they crashed onto the shores again and again, soaking him to the bones. The water didn’t wash away his pains and his sins – and yet, he felt warm even though the water was cold – like he was being engulfed wholly, firmly by a lover. He looked at the sea and whispered, _I’m here, Web. I’m here_.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on [webgottrash](http://webgottrash.tumblr.com/post/140881856997/only-the-ocean).


End file.
